


Winter Puppy

by pherryt



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [8]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Shapeshifting, Sulking, Werewolves, accidental confessions, accidental nudity, bed sharing, clint wants a dog, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Clint wants a dog, but Katie-Kate took Lucky with her to California and Tony and Steve said no.What's a guy to do?





	Winter Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> This hits the  
Clint Barton Bingo Square - Vampires/Werewolves ( i chose werewolf)  
Winterhawk Bingo Square - Accidental Nudity
> 
> not beta'd

Clint was maybe, possibly – just a little, mind you – pouting.

Steve had a strict no pets policy for any active Avengers in case of Avenging and Tony had a strict no _dogs _policy in the tower whatsoever and Katie-Kate had taken Lucky to California with her, so Clint didn’t even have access to his doggie time-share.

And no one wanted to visit any rescues with him and Fury had recently grounded him from going out alone for some reason.

Geez. It wasn’t like it was his fault that that gargoyle had crashed to the ground. That was a landlord issue for not doing proper upkeep and maintenance. How was _Clint _supposed to know that parkouring off it’s head was gonna end in property damage?

People should really take more pride in their buildings.

He’d made his displeasure loudly known – of the unfair grounding, uncooperative teammates, cheapskate landlords, and the totally biased rule against pets - and then he’d gone off to his rooms to sulk. He sulked for a week straight, only coming out for coffee. He survived on frozen pizzas and poptarts in that time and then he ran out.

With a frustrated sigh – because really, he’d been planning on holing up in his rooms until Steve and Tony had come to their senses or one of the others had changed their minds about escorting him out and about – Clint shuffled out of his rooms, his aids left behind (he wasn’t talking to _any _of those traitors), with full intent to raid the common kitchens for anything he could get away with.

Clint _may_ have picked the middle of the night as the best time to sneak out in the hopes that everyone else was asleep – barring nightmares – just to avoid everyone.

No, he wasn’t being petty. He was sticking to his guns.

Despite that, he’d fully expected to dodge people all the way to the kitchen. What he _hadn’t_ expected was to trip over the largest, fluffiest, most gorgeous dog in existence, sleeping right in front of his door.

_His door!_

And seriously, this thing was huge! Probably as big as a St. Bernard. Maybe even bigger! Were there bigger dogs out there?

In fact, if he didn’t know better, Clint might have thought it was a wolf. But it was hard enough to believe there was a dog (and one of this _size_) in the tower, there was no way a _wolf _had gotten in.

Therefore, it was a dog and not a wolf.

Clint literally fell to his knees to fawn over the sleeping <strike>wolf</strike> dog, burying his fingers into the fur with a wide grin cracking his face for the first time in _days_.

“Oh my god! You’re absolutely gorgeous! Where’d you _come _from, boy? Who’s a pretty boy, huh? You are!” Clint babbled at the dog, watching it blink its way awake, its ears twitching before its head shot up. He almost held his breath. Despite being in the tower, didn’t mean the dog was friendly and here Clint was practically draped on top of it!

When the dog didn’t freak out, Clint proceeded to gush. While he couldn’t hear if the dog was growling, with his hands tangled in the dogs fur and petting enthusiastically, Clint was positive he’d _feel _it. He took that as a good sign and then a thought struck him.

He whipped up his head and looked left, then right, before standing and nudging the door behind him open wider with his foot.

“C’mon, boy, let’s get you inside before someone sees! Tony’ll have a cow if he sees you in his tower and Cap-“ Clint sighed, urging the dog into his rooms. “Steve’ll just give me one of his patented disappointed looks that make me feel almost as bad as when dad used to beat me. Like, seriously, how the hell does he do that? Steve’s just as bad as Fury.”

Clint shut the door behind the dog who’d frozen just over the threshold, staring at him.

“What’s the matter? You thirsty? Hungry?” Clint headed towards his little kitchenette and quickly set up a bowl of water but then floundered. He didn’t have _any _food in his apartments, hence his little excursion.

Clint bit his lip and looked over at the dog who had followed him. “Shit. Okay, you stay _right _here. I’m gonna sneak out and grab some food. But no barking! Remember what I said – can’t let the others know there’s a _dog _in here, or they’ll take you away!”

Deciding he’d need every advantage he could get, Clint went for his aids, popping them in with a grimace. The world came back a little more into focus, though it was never perfect, and he headed back to his door, stopping to put a finger over his mouth and whisper _‘shhhh’_ at the dog.

He made his way to the kitchen and back as fast as he could, grabbing handfuls of meat, a box of leftover pizza and, of course, the coffee he needed desperately to survive, all of it balancing precariously in his arms.

Setting everything down on the counter, Clint chattered to the big fluffy dog as he put most of it away, leaving out the pound of ground meat he’d found and the pizza.

“There’s always leftovers in the fridge, doubt anybody’ll notice the pizzas gone missing,” he said, around a mouthful of said pizza. Mushroom and sausage and a lot of garlic. Yum. He ripped open the package of ground beef and dug out a bowl. “Found something for you too, since Katie-Kate said I’m not _supposed _to feed dogs pizza. Which, that’s just sad.”

He set the meat into the bowl and down on the floor beside the water dish, but the dog didn’t seem interested. Clint frowned and crouched beside the dog. “What’s wrong, boy? Not hungry?”

The dog huffed and leaned into Clint and Clint laughed, digging fingers into the dogs’ fur. “You need a name.”

He let himself drop the rest of the way to the floor, his coffee forgotten as he curled up against the dog and yawned. He hadn’t been sleeping well, and the warm body was soothing. His eyes drooped, his fingers slowly petting the dog.

The fur was gorgeous – soft, fluffy, black with some gray and brown thrown in. The biggest concentration of brown seemed to be about its head and neck, running back a little over its front shoulders (were those shoulders on a dog?), while the biggest concentration of gray was a bright silver patch on its front left leg.

And the dog’s eyes were _grey_ instead of the usual brown.

All in all, it reminded Clint of Bucky, who he’d been harboring a secret crush on for quite some time.

Sleepily, Clint hummed, scratching at the dog’s ears. “I think I’ll call you… Winter Puppy, cause of your leg, and ‘cause you remind me of one of my favorite people.” He sighed, looking off dreamily for a second. “Mmm… Yeah, Bucky’s really awesome, though I don’t think he thinks the same about me. I’m kind of a disaster. But hey, don’t you go telling Nat, though. She might get jealous of my crush.”

The dog’s ears twitched and his head turned to give Clint a look. Clint chuckled. “Oh yeah, Bucky’d totally give me one of those glares – the ones where he’s not _really _mad but he’s trying to look like he is. Winter Puppy it is.”

Winter Puppy gruffed and head-butted Clint and Clint laughed. “Man, this is the best day ever.” He yawned again and the dog stood up, twisted about and grabbed ahold of Clint’s sweatpants, the fabric catching in his teeth, giving it a light tug.

Giving in to Winter Puppy’s urging, Clint stood, the dog pressing against his legs. Clint soon found himself herded into his room, the blankets still a tangled mess from that morning. He stumbled forward and fell onto the bed. Patting the bed clumsily, he mumbled, “C’mon, Winter Puppy.”

His eyes drooped closed but the bed dipped as the dog jumped up, settling bodily along side Clint, pressing up against him from head to toe.

Damn, but not even Lucky was that big.

The dog snuffled Clint’s hair, then licked his cheek and Clint rolled over, slinging an arm over Winter Puppy.

He fell asleep easily, warm and content.

Clint woke in the late morning, groaning at the feeling in his ears. Fuck, he’d forgotten to take his aids out last night. What could _possibly _have made him forget – something beside him shifted and Clint’s eyes shot open, realizing only in that moment that he felt naked skin against his arms and against his legs where his pants had ridden up, and also under the palm of his hand, his nose tickled by fur – no, that wasn’t fur.

It was hair.

He eased back, holding his breath – _Clint, bro, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?_ – to see a wide expanse of flesh pressed up against him, of gorgeous muscles, long brown hair, a naked ass –

Clint swallowed.

There was a naked man in his bed. A naked man that looked familiar, even from the back. But this wasn’t making any sense. He had a fuzzy recollection – hah! Fuzzy! – of finding a large dog outside his rooms and bringing it inside but there was no sign of the dog, just the man.

God, he couldn’t think clearly. He needed coffee.

The man slotted up against him shifted and Clint caught a glimpse of something silver against the bed and he squeaked.

The man froze.

“Clint?” came the breathless, uncertain question.

_“Bucky?”_ Clint’s voice may have been a bit shrill. “What… what are you… what are you doing in my bed?”

Bucky whined – an honest to god _whine _– and he rolled away from Clint on the bed. At least, he tried to. Clint found his hand was clamped down over Bucky’s ribs and he jerked back as if he’d been burned though touching Bucky was all he’d ever wanted to do.

“Sorry, sorry,” Clint rambled, jerking so hard he fell off the other side of the bed with a loud thump.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to –“ Bucky started at the same time, cutting himself off with another curse.

Bucky’s head appeared over the side of the bed and looked down at Clint. “Fuck, are you okay?”

Clint lay sprawled, inelegantly, over the floor, looking up at Bucky’s concerned face. “Good. I’m good.”

Shifting off the bed, Bucky came to stand beside Clint, gloriously naked, and Clint had to shake his head a few times to pull his gaze back to the hand Bucky was holding out. Swallowing, Clint stared up at Bucky whose face and hand was starting to waver.

“Am I dreaming?” Clint asked.

Bucky blinked. “Do you often dream of me?”

“Uh… which answer won’t get me killed?”

Bucky snorted, reached down and pulled Clint to his feet. “Just answer the damn question, doll.”

Clint nearly swooned. Doll. Bucky had called him _doll_. “Uh, so, maybe, once or twice, I guess.”

They stood in Clint’s bedroom, staring at each other. Bucky shifted, looking a little sheepish, while clint tried to get his eyes to behave and not wander over the very much naked Bucky Barnes.

He cleared his throat. “I am so confused right now. I need coffee.”

Bucky nodded. “I can explain but, maybe I should put on some clothes first?” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips when Clint’s eyes shot back up. He slapped a hand over his eyes in mortification and groaned. Bucky must think he’s a perv! Then again, _Bucky _was in his _bed._

_Naked._

“Oh, my god, I’m sorry!” Cheeks blazing hot, Clint lunged for his closet, tripping over the spilled blankets on the floor. “Yeah, I think, I maybe got… where is… aha!”

He tossed the hoody over his shoulder before opening a drawer and looking for another pair of sweats. Tossing those at Bucky too, Clint partially covered his eyes and edged around towards the door.

“I’ll just, uh… start the coffee pot…” he said, his shoulder bouncing into the wall. He yelped, turned, and bolted for his kitchen.

He stood there, braced against the counter for a long moment, breathing hard.

Fuck.

Bucky Barnes, literal, actual crush, in his apartment – in his fucking _bed _\- naked.

How the hell had that happened? Why couldn’t Clint _remember_ it?

With a groan, Clint scrubbed a hand down his face and set about the task of making coffee. There was a fresh bag on the counter as well as a mostly empty pizza box. On the floor were two untouched bowls – one filled with water, the other filled with raw meat.

Right. He’d been about to go on a supply run in the kitchen when he found the dog and brought him in. then he’d fallen asleep with the dog after naming him Winter Puppy because he’d reminded Clint of…

He’d reminded Clint of Bucky.

No…

No, it wasn’t possible.

Was it?

Clint whirled when he heard Bucky enter the room, the step deliberately heavy to be heard by his aids because Bucky could walk damn softly when he wanted to.

He stared at Bucky with wide eyes. It wasn’t possible. It really, really, wasn’t possible – “Winter Puppy?”

Bucky grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Oh my god,” Clint said, his eyes wide, his brain scrambling to catch up. What had he said last night? He’d rambled to the dog about a few things, including his crush on Bucky, but maybe he hadn’t said anything incriminating?

He blinked, and Bucky’s hands were on his shoulders. “Breathe, Clint, it’s okay.”

“It’s okay?” Clint asked, nearly hysterical now. “I’m pretty sure I outed myself last night and it’s okay??”

Bucky frowned. “Doll, if you’re talking about your crush on me, it’s only a problem if I don’t have one too. I was…” Bucky blushed. “Actually pretty happy to hear it. Just… I’m ashamed that’s how I found out. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, what?”

“I like you too, Clint,” Bucky said, giving him a tentative smile. It fell away, as did his hands as he backed off, giving Clint space. “But I’d understand if you were mad at me. What happened last night – it hadn’t been my intention, I swear.”

“Right. What… exactly… no, better question. How are you…” Clint gestured at Bucky – and thrilled at the sight of him in Clint’s oversized clothes. Not the time. “You were a _dog_!”

“Wolf, actually,” Bucky said, grimacing.

“How?”

Bucky sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of the hoody, looking down, the curtain of his fair hiding his face. “Think it was while I was with HYDRA. Not sure if it was intentional or not, but Steve didn’t remember anything about me being a werewolf, so, that cut down some of the possibilities.”

“A werewolf?” Clint said weakly. “Steve _knew?”_

Blanching, Bucky hunched his shoulders up into his ears and Clint felt a little guilty for just a moment before reminding himself that Bucky hadn’t told the rest of the team, had fooled Clint into letting him in and then took advantage of that.

“To be fair, Steve knew before I did.”

“How the fuck does that work?” Clint said.

“Clint, I couldn’t remember who I even _was_, I had no idea I could shift into a wolf until it _happened_. And I did it right in front of Steve. It… was a rough few nights, that first time, but it was Steve’s idea not to tell anyone. He was worried that, well, most of you were already concerned about me being here, and he thought it would only make things worse.” Bucky sounded miserable. “After a while, when it was clear I wasn’t a danger anymore we just…didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Okay,” Clint said, drawing out the word. He turned to the coffee pot, which hadn’t quite finished gurgling away yet, but he couldn’t wait. He needed something to wake up his brain. He dragged out a mug, pulled out the pot and poured himself a cup, before replacing the glass pot in its place, the sizzle of dripping coffee hitting the hot plate sounding loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Clint wanted to rip his aids out, his ears needed a damn break but he _also _needed to finish this conversation with Bucky.

“Last night, though,” Clint asked, turning to look at Bucky again, chugging half his mug down in one gulp. “Why were you here?”

“Instinct,” Bucky said. He looked up; his sad, troubled eyes boring into Clint’s. “I’m not exactly a wolf when I shift, but I’m not exactly a man either. I’d missed you this past week, with you hiding away from everyone – including me. And I knew you were upset. I wanted to help but, seemed pretty clear you just wanted to be left alone, so I respected that. But, as a wolf, I didn’t remember those things. My wolf part only knew I wanted to be with you, so it came here.”

“Okay,” Clint granted. “So how much – exactly - do you remember from last night?”

Bucky stiffened, blew out a breath. “All of it. I may not be operating on the same mental capacities as a wolf as I would as a man, but my recollection of it is clear.”

“And the uh, the bed thing?”

“I won’t lie,” Bucky said. “I enjoyed that. Have wanted to do that for a while now. But I never imagined doing it like that. My wolf chose to do it, because you seemed happy to have me and because I’ve been craving the opportunity to be close to you for months. But I never wanted to do it without your consent, and for that I’m so deeply, deeply sorry.”

Clint thought about that for a long moment, possibly a few long moments, slowly sipping the rest of his coffee, gripping the mug like a lifeline – because it usually was – but he found that he’d forgiven Bucky almost before he’d explained himself and what he really wanted to be gripping was him.

With each passing moment, though, Bucky seemed increasingly nervous, though he didn’t fidget the way Clint would. He went still, instead, his hair back to hiding his face, but there was a tenseness to his shoulders that Clint wasn’t sure anyone outside of the Avengers would have recognized.

Bucky was scared.

And he liked Clint.

And Clint liked Bucky.

Plus, bonus, Bucky could turn into a _wolf, _which was kinda dog adjacent. And wasn’t that just… so damn cool?

“Can you do it anytime you want?” Clint blurted.

“Do what?”

“Turn into a wolf?”

“Oh, well, I’m still working on that part. Mostly it just happens during certain moon phases – “

“The full moon, you mean?”

“Actually, no moon,” Bucky said. “Other than that, we’ve been hit or miss about it working. Steve thought if I could get conscious control over it, it could be helpful to the team and that’s when we’d bring it up.”

Clint placed the mug on the counter and stepped closer to Bucky, his nerves jittering, his fingers shaking as he reached out for Bucky. “So, you like me?”

“Yeah, Clint, I do,” Bucky said, his voice hopeful and his gaze could give new meaning to puppy dog eyes.

Clearing his throat, both his hands tucking Bucky’s hair behind his ears so Clint could get a better look at that gorgeous, scruffy face, Clint said, “I ain’t mad at ya, Buck. But I _am _dying for a kiss, since ya like me an’ all.”

Bucky brightened and he grinned. “Gave you a goodnight kiss last night, doll, if I recall correctly.”

Clint snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m not counting slobbery doggie licks as – mmmm….”

Surging forward that last few inches, Bucky’s mouth covered Clint’s and Clint’s stomach swooped at the sensation of Bucky’s lips on his, of Bucky’s tongue swiping along his own lips till he opened. Soon enough, Clint was clinging to Bucky, backed up against the counter, his hands threaded through Bucky’s hair.

They might have stayed there a lot longer, but then there was a knock on his door, the lights were flashing and Steve’s somewhat panicked voice was calling out.

Clint was too dazed – and damn his ears itched real bad – to catch what Steve said, but Bucky groaned into Clint’s neck. He kissed it softly, pulled away and cupped Clint’s face in his hands. “Let me go take care of Steve, before he has a proper meltdown, then what say you and I cuddle up on the couch a bit and watch tv together?”

The image of him and Bucky curled up together was tantalizing and Clint nodded frantically.

“I say that sounds just about perfect,” Clint breathed.

**Author's Note:**

> i am way too amused at the idea of Winter Puppy. seriously. :D


End file.
